Retaliation
by DeadAngelo
Summary: "How can you stop a war that has already begun?" Madison never dreamed of being a hero, not even once. But when a war in the heavens reaches the earth, it's up to five heroes to stop a rebellion and save the world. Between a depressing prophecy, a grueling task, and a deadline to meet, life as they knew it will never be the same again. [Book 1 of The Minor Rebellion series.]


**PROLOGUE**

"There's a storm coming, isn't there?"

Chiron glanced to his right, studying the man standing next to him. Time and hardship had taken their tolls on Percy Jackson—his face was scarred with marks left unhealed and a deep sadness that was always visible, but only to those who knew the expression well. His eyes, which had once been a sparkling, lighthearted green, now resembled raging waves on the brink of damnation. Chiron's heart broke for the hero, who had lost much more than anyone should.

"Yes," Chiron answered, his gaze going back to the darkened storm clouds. It unnerved the centaur—it never rained in Camp Half-blood.

Percy turned to him, eyes distant and withdrawn. "Should we be worried?"

"Indeed."

A red-headed women walked onto the patio, a shawl wrapped around her burdened shoulders. The green, crossed pattern stood out against her pale skin, revealing how vulnerable the Oracle of Delphi was. Her face shone with an unhealthy, worrisome glow that shouldn't have been on a twenty-five year old woman, or really anyone at all.

"Rachel?" Percy asked, registering the dejected expression on his friend's face. "Is something wrong?"

She let out a sigh, her eyes fixated on the sky with a saddened expression. "This is how my vision began." She squinted pointlessly at the clouds, feeling her heart race at the frightening sight. "A storm hit the camp."

The three fell silent, thoughts circulating around the prophecy that was revealed so many years before. Chiron continued to look out at the clouds, imagining the Olympian counsel sitting upon their thrones at this very moment. He imagined Zeus, with the lightning bolt in his hand, looking down on the earth with a troubled expression. They must feel it—the disturbance in the atmosphere. Something was coming.

Campers walked about, momentarily glancing at the sky in worry. But other than the usual paranoia that came with being a half-blood, there was no fear in their eyes. None that wasn't average, at least.

"Should we warn them?" Rachel whispered, pulling her shawl around herself instinctively as the breeze picked up. The thin fabric did nothing to ward off the chill, but it did help to comfort her in a time of great despair.

"No," Chiron answered. "Let them believe that everything is alright for as long as they can." _Ignorance is bliss, after all._

"Chiron?" Percy said, leaning against the railing as if he could hardly support his own weight. Chiron looked at him, willing the man to continue. "What do you think is going to happen to us?"

Chiron felt a lump form in his throat, tying his usually fluent tongue. Percy was staring at him, waiting for an answer Chiron never wanted to give him. The poor demigod had been through so much in his life—so much more than anyone should ever have to experience. He wanted desperately to tell him no, to reassure him that everything was going to be fine. That he would never have to suffer such tragedies ever again.

But Chiron wasn't a liar.

"I don't know, Percy," he replied, clasping his hands together as he spoke. "I truly don't know."

"_Five wandering souls, with scars so deep,_" Rachel recited softly, her voice distant and her gaze somewhere else entirely, "_shall embark on a quest with a goal to meet._"

"_Stop the traitor or give up your ground,_" Percy continued, his voice low with remorse and sympathy for the demigods who would fulfill the prophecy. "_Find the lost and lose the found._"

"_By treason will the truth be told,_"Chiron murmured, "_for_ _the broken must fall or Hell grow cold._"

Chiron saw Percy shudder from the corner of his eyes. The words weighed in Chiron's mind, pitying the poor souls that would become heroes. A hero's life is none too long, especially when you carry the world on your shoulders.

The centaur watched demigods walk about, smiling and chattering as if nothing could possibly turn sour and hard and bitter. Any five of those innocent teenagers could be the five that were foretold. Any of them—children, adolescents, even young adults who were in their last year at camp.

Life can be altered by the simplest, the _smallest_, of touches. Because life was fragile—a delicate, vulnerable thing that could end at any moment. Life was a balloon, in a sense; with even the slightest pressure, it could fracture, sending that person and anyone they love into a spiraling mess of betrayal and death and sacrifices that have the power to break a person's will.

"It's happening," Rachel said. "The storm is coming, and it's going to hit us—hard."

* * *

_Five wandering souls, with scars so deep,_

_Shall embark on a quest with a goal to meet._

_Stop the traitor or give up your ground,_

_Find the lost and lose the found._

_By treason will the truth be told,_

_For the broken must fall or Hell grow cold._

* * *

**[Hi there! As you can see, I'm beginning a new story. This is only the prologue, the chapters are much longer. The story is centered around my own original characters, but Rick's characters will be important to the plot as well. So, I'm going to go ahead and say this: I DO NOT OWN ANY RIGHTS TO THE UNIVERSE CREATED BY RICK RIORDAN. Thank you for reading!]**


End file.
